


Golden Tattoo

by PanicFOB



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Based on a Taylor Swift Song, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Language, Met Online
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-10
Updated: 2019-09-10
Packaged: 2020-10-14 01:23:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20592347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PanicFOB/pseuds/PanicFOB
Summary: It's finally time for you to meet the guy you've been chatting online with for nine months. Inspired by the lyrics of Dress by Taylor Swift.





	Golden Tattoo

Steven: Are you looking forward to Saturday night?

Y/N: Of course! I’m a little nervous though.

Steven: Me too, honestly. It’s weird that I feel so secure getting to know you this way, but the thought of having to form an actual sentence with my actual mouth while I’m looking at your gorgeous face is terrifying me.

Y/N: We’ve went over this before, Steven. You can’t say I’m gorgeous when you don’t even know what I look like.

Steven: Can too, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.

Y/N: How will I know it’s you when I see you?

Steven: Hmmm, maybe we should tell each other exactly what we’ll be wearing?

Y/N: But I don’t even know what I’ll be wearing yet. I was planning on doing a little shopping tomorrow after work.

Steven: What sorts of shopping?

Y/N: Well I’m thinking I’ll get a new dress.

Steven: Just the dress or…?

Steven: Maybe other things as well?

Y/N: I’m not telling you what new underwear I’m buying. You’ll just have to wait and see.

Steven: So I will be seeing, then? Jesus, doll. You’ve already got me all flustered. How am I supposed to form a sentence in front of you now when all I’ll be thinking about is your underwear?

Y/N: Not my fault. You’re the one that brought it up.

Steven: Why don’t you tell me what your hair will look like?

Y/N: Huh?

Steven: So that I can recognize you.

Y/N: Oh, right. Well, I haven’t decided that bit either.

Steven: Doesn’t sound like you’ve made any decisions yet. It’s two nights away. Are you sure you still want to come?

Y/N: Positive. And I’m sorry I don’t plan my outfits several days ahead of time. What, do you already have yours laid out like an old man?

Steven: …maybe.

Y/N: Busted. You’re such a dork.

Steven: Yeah, I really am, aren’t I?

Y/N: My dork, though.

Steven: I like the sound of that: your dork.

Y/N: Good because you’re stuck with it.

Steven: My hair is blonde. Shorter on the sides and the back, longer at the top. I usually gel it to swoop to the side a little. That’s how you’ll know it’s me.

Y/N: Blonde hair… right, that should make it sooo easy to distinguish you.

Steven: Maybe I like keeping a bit of mystery. Perhaps you’ll have to talk to every blond guy there in order to find me.

Y/N: Perhaps I’ll find one I like better than you.

Steven: Ouch.

Y/N: I’ll be wearing a golden necklace. It has a crescent moon pendant. I wear it all the time, so Saturday night won’t be any different no matter which dress I decide to buy.

Steven: I’ll be searching for it. We should probably get some rest. We both still have work tomorrow.

Y/N: Hey Steven? Is this crazy?

Steven: That we’re meeting in person after nine months of talking over messages? A little. But I’m sick of all the waiting and anticipation. You’ve made your mark on me, Y/N, and I want us to move forward into a traditional relationship.

Steven: One where, you know, I can actually kiss you… and see those underwear you mentioned earlier.

Y/N: That you mentioned earlier. Goodnight, Steven.

Steven: Goodnight, doll.

You had met Steven in an online chatroom for singles in New York. You knew many things about him. He was around the same age as you. He worked in law enforcement. He’d been single for a really long time after losing his first love. He had a best friend named James that he practically treated like a brother. He often had to go away on long covert missions that sometimes made his responses to your messages infrequent. He was a real sweet talker, calling you doll and sweetheart at every opportunity. You could tell he had a tough side that he put on for his job, but when he was talking with you, he was often so incredibly soft.

You’d been pining after the man for nine months, and at this point, you didn’t even care what he looked like. His ability to electrify you with words over text was enough to seal the deal for you. Every typed combination of letters from him made your entire body feel like it was burning. The movement of your fingers across the keyboard and your lips silently forming words as you read his sentiments were a sensual dance between the two of you.

But this dance had gone on for too long now. You were desperately waiting to start a new one. A dance that allowed you to feel his hand in yours.

True to your word, you went dress shopping Friday afternoon. After sifting through sale racks for what felt like hours, you settled on a literal little black dress. It had spaghetti straps and perfectly hugged your curves. It came down to the middle of your thighs, an equal distance from your hips and your knees. You hoped it wasn’t too much, but judging by some of the dirty things Steven had messaged you in the past, you figured he would certainly appreciate all that this dress accentuated. It didn’t matter much anyway, considering you planned to have him take it off of you as quickly as possible.

The two of you were meeting at a club, one that you had been to a few times with friends but Steven had never heard of. You got the impression that he wasn’t much of the clubbing type, but he said he was happy to try it out just to finally see you. It wasn’t very far from your apartment, so you decided to walk. The heels you were wearing were pretty comfortable.

When you arrived, the club was already in full swing. You squeezed through the crowd and made it to the bar, ordering some wine to sip on while you carefully examined every blonde man in the room. You had made it halfway through your second glass when you spotted a man that you thought might be your Steven. He seemed to have that desired combination of sexy and dorky that you imagined Steven would have. You stood from the barstool, slowly walking toward him as you planned on how to introduce yourself without looking lame.

You only made it a few steps, though, before someone behind you called your name. You turned to see who it was, and they said it again.

“Y/N?”

Everything stopped. All the noise from the club disappeared. You couldn’t even breathe. Your heart was beating no longer. Standing in front of you was Captain America. Steve Rogers. And his hair wasn’t blond, it was golden. You were sure the beautiful brightness of it would be imprinted on the inside of your eyelids like a tattoo.

“Um, how do you know my name?”

“It’s me, Steven.”

And then you came to the astonishing realization that Captain America had been catfishing you for nine months.

“No. Your name is Steve Rogers, not Steven.”

“Well, technically Steven is my real name. The public just knows me as Steve.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, your brain flashing back to all the ridiculously embarrassing things that you had admitted to Captain America of all people. “What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck?”

He put his right hand on your upper arm in a comforting gesture. “I’m really sorry I didn’t tell you the whole truth, okay? But I just really wanted to get to know you without you making assumptions because of my public image. I promise that everything I said to you in those messages was the real me.”

“I need to sit down, I think.”

He led you to an empty booth and patiently waited for you to collect your thoughts.

“I just… I was imagining you as a big ole dork. Granted, a sexy dork… but still. I wasn’t thinking anywhere along the lines of Nation’s Beloved Hero.”

“Look, I can put you in touch with Bucky, Sam, and Nat and they will assure you that I am one hundred percent a dork. I promise you, all those dad jokes that you made fun of me for I came up with all by myself.”

You snorted and smiled.

“You know, I distinctly remember you saying you were around the same age as me. But that was definitely a lie. You’re like a hundred years old.”

“But I don’t look a day over thirty, do I?” he was grinning smugly.

It was at that point that you decided you didn’t really care that Steven, or Steve, had left out key truths about his real identity. He was just as charming and fun to talk to in person as he had been over messages. And despite him literally looking like he was sculpted by the gods, he still managed to survey you with those vibrant blue eyes in a way that made you feel like you were the most beautiful woman in the world.

“Want to go back to my place?” you finally asked after a few more minutes of conversation.

He quirked an eyebrow. “You sure?”

“Positive.” You stood from the booth and held out your hand expectantly. “Come on, Cap.”

The two of you walked through the darkened streets with your fingers intertwined on your way back to your apartment. You could feel your hands shaking a bit, but it wasn’t from nerves. You were so buzzed to be here now with Steven, and it was killing you to keep your hands off him long enough to make it to your bedroom.

You ended up there with him soon enough.

Steven slowly traced his fingers over your clavicle and then across your golden chain and moon pendant. “I really like this,” he said softly. “It suits you.”

“It matches your hair,” you told him.

He chuckled at that as he unzipped your dress from behind, and then you turned to face him with a sexy smirk. You pushed him back onto your bed, and he sat up and watched as you slowly shimmied out of the tight black fabric and it pooled at your feet. Once your new underwear was on full display, he let out a groan.

“Jesus, doll. Fuck me.”

You climbed into his lap. “I fully intend to.”

“You’re absolutely gorgeous,” he whispered huskily before devouring your neck and jawline with his lips.


End file.
